


stars in their eyes

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Past Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Past Isaac Lahey/Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9472733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: 'But he figures that though he and Scott may be close enough that occasionally smelling each other’s come isn’t a big deal, he and Danny probably aren’t there yet.And shit, when did Stiles’ life become crazy enough that that was something he actually had to worry about?Probably somewhere between his best friend becoming a werewolf, and becoming a werewolf himself.Probably.'





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> I tagged for past Stiles/Isaac and Stiles/Derek to be on the safe side, but it's only a very brief mention, so if that's not your jam, don't worry.

The last time Stiles had been in Danny’s room was when they were eight and he’d invited Scott and Stiles over for a sleepover with Jackson. Scott had been shy, and he’d forgotten his inhaler, so he’d gone home early. Jackson had spent most of the night ‘accidentally’ kicking Stiles in the leg and had made it clear the next morning that Danny was _his_ friend, not Stiles’s. 

He’d stuck to his sleepovers with Scott after that.

Back then, Danny’s room had been dark blue and the ceiling had been dotted with glow in the dark stars (the only nice part of that sleepover had been gazing at their soft, comforting glow above him as he drifted to sleep); he’d had _Power Rangers_ bed sheets and a really cool lamp shaped like Saturn.

It’s changed a lot since then. Now, the walls are a warm cream, apart from the longest wall adjacent to Danny’s bed, which is painted a soft green color that reminds Stiles of spring. There’s a lot of green, actually, from the curtains to the rug on the soft grey carpet, even the drawers on the desk tucked into one corner. He’s got a double bed now, with heather grey sheets and a couple of cushions with city map patterns on them, and the nightstand’s bare apart from a simple white lamp. Two lacrosse sticks have been hung in a cross on the wall, which is kind of cool, and there’s a shelf by the closet full of trophies, photos and assorted junk. 

It’s neat, too, the bed made and the curtains open to let light in. It’s clean and tidy, save for the blue shirt hanging haphazardly out of the laundry basket. And it _smells_ nice, like freshly laundered clothes and vacuumed carpet and clean sheets. There’s a soft, lingering note of fabric freshener in the air; lemon, with a hint of a grassy scent. Stiles’ nose twitches as he breathes it in. 

Danny raises his eyebrows as he closes the door behind Stiles, watching him. “Are you smelling my room?”

Stiles thinks back to all the times he’d thrown a pillow at Scott’s face for doing the exact same thing, usually followed by a grossed out scrunch of his nose and an adamant refusal to take one step closer to Stiles’ bed. He gets it, now; it’s hard to tune it out, or ignore it. To pretend that he can’t smell way better than humans can. 

He offers a sheepish shrug. “Sorry. I’m still learning.”

Danny looks more amused than offended. He heads over to the bed, sitting down. “How’s that going?”

“Good. My control is a lot better. I can control the shift now, rather than the other way ‘round.” Which is good, because popping claws and fangs every time he got a little turned on had been infuriatingly embarrassing, and cause for Stiles to feel guilty for ever making fun of Scott for that little problem. “I’m still struggling with tuning my senses, but Derek and Scott think I’m nearly there.”

Danny smiles. “Cool. That’s really great, Stiles.”

Stiles returns it, but he doesn’t approach the bed, wary that he’ll pick up on other scents if he gets closer, because that would be fucking awkward.

They’re friends now. Stiles figures that surviving a troll together – pretty much by the skin of their teeth, but still – definitely qualifies as a bonding experience. And they hang out now, too; mostly at school, sure, but Danny sometimes comes over with Scott to play video games or study at Stiles’ house. They eat lunch at the same table and Danny generally wants to partner with Stiles for projects and labs these days. He laughs at Stiles’ jokes instead of rolling his eyes, he gives Stiles lacrosse pointers, and he offers him smiles and hugs that are definitely friendship smiles and hugs. It’s kinda great.

But he figures that though he and Scott may be close enough that occasionally smelling each other’s come isn’t a big deal, he and Danny probably aren’t there yet.

And shit, when did Stiles’ life become crazy enough that _that_ was something he actually had to worry about?

Probably somewhere between his best friend becoming a werewolf, and becoming a werewolf himself.

Probably.

Danny watches Stiles for a moment. “I cleaned my room before you got here,” he says. “And changed my sheets. I figured...you know.”

So Danny had definitely planned this when he’d asked Stiles over to hang out. Stiles almost asks if he’d changed the sheets because of the scent of his own come, or because of the scent of him and someone else, and almost kicks himself because that is a totally weird thing to ask, and really none of his fucking business. 

Instead, he nods and crosses the room, dropping down onto the bed next to Danny. His shirt rides up a little as he scoots back to get comfy and a second later, his nostrils flare slightly as he picks up the faint trace of arousal in the air. From _Danny_. Which is...

“New,” he says aloud. “This is new.”

Danny shrugs. “Is it?”

Stiles blinks. “Yes...?” He ventures, but Danny just smiles, and, “ _Oh_. Huh. How long?”

“A while.” 

“Vague but flattering, I like it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You weren’t ready. You were in love with Lydia. You were just starting to figure things out and you needed to do it at your own pace and on your own terms. I didn’t want to just be an experiment while you figured things out.” Danny shrugs. “Take your pick.”

Stiles nods. “And now?” 

He smiles, reaching out to hook his thumb in Stiles’ waistband, fingertips brushing against the sliver of skin between his jeans and shirt. “Now you’re not in love with Lydia. You’ve figured things out. I wouldn’t be an experiment.”

“And you think I’m ready?”

Dark eyes meet his. “Are you?”

Stiles licks his lips. He’s pretty openly bisexual and this isn’t his first time with a guy; he and Isaac had dated, briefly, at the beginning of junior year, and there’d been that kind-of-vaguely-awkward hook up with Derek during the summer. But this is Danny, and it’s different, but also it’s _Danny_ , and it’s _different_. 

It’s Danny, who never pressured Stiles about his sexuality, who let him figure it out but was there when Stiles needed advice. It’s Danny, who is patient with him on the lacrosse field, who grins at Stiles’ _Star Wars_ jokes, who Stiles has always wanted to be _liked_ by, has always had that _something_ when talking to him, even when he didn’t really understand why. Danny, who was there when Stiles shifted for the first time, surprisingly calm and pretty chill about the whole thing, enough so that it helped Stiles to relax. 

It’s Danny, who has cleaned his whole room for Stiles. Who –

“Oh, shit, hey,” Stiles smiles up at the ceiling. “You kept the stars.”

Danny glances up at the glow in the dark stars. “Oh. Yeah. I never got round to taking them down, I guess.”

“You shouldn’t. They’re cool. I like ‘em.”

“Yeah? You gonna be looking at them often?”

“Danny?” Stiles says, something warm and bright bubbling up inside him. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

It’s Danny, who kisses him so thoroughly that Stiles sees stars.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently accepting prompts at allirica.tumblr.com


End file.
